


Chains Beyond All Blacksmiths

by Piscaria



Category: The Eagle | Eagle of the Ninth (2011)
Genre: Character Study, Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-12
Updated: 2012-03-12
Packaged: 2017-11-01 20:24:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/360879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piscaria/pseuds/Piscaria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A brief series of drabbles I wrote while trying to get my head around Esca's character.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Offer

Marcus is blushing, stammering as he explains how much he cares for Esca, how he would like to offer him this, though all of Rome might scorn him. 

So twisted and convoluted are his sentences, words jumbling like poetry in his nervousness, it takes Esca a moment to realize what he is offering. Then a startled laugh breaks free. Marcus looks at him, hurt. 

Esca realizes then that, though Marcus has driven himself between Esca's thighs, has left him wrecked and shuddering, he doesn’t _know_. 

"Oh, Marcus," he says. "Yes. I will fuck you. You are going to love it."


	2. Belonging

Now that his father's knife has burned, he has few possessions of his own. A knife. A length of thread. A bone needle. A tiny block of beeswax. The pendant he bought because the emerald reminded him of Marcus's dolphin ring. He hasn't worked up the courage to give it to Marcus yet.

At night, while Marcus is asleep, Esca takes the chain between his fingers, letting the pendant swing in time to Marcus’s gentle snores. He imagines it gleaming around Marcus’s neck, marking him as Esca’s. The thrill coursing through him might be longing, or terror, or both.


	3. Cry Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Contains flashback to non-con.

I.

Escarix said he’d rather die than suck a Roman’s cock. The first of the slavers only laughed, hitching up his tunic. The slavers bound Esca’s wrists and took him from behind, battering into so roughly, one after enough, that he couldn't help but cry out. He’d felt pain, been wounded in battle, but nothing compared to this.

He imagined the ghost of Cunoval turning away in shame.

Escarix got his wish. He died that day. Behind him, he left only Esca, empty, numb, and full of shame. When the master placed his cock to Esca’s lips a week later, he opened his mouth.

II.

As he held Marcus down, Esca remembered the first stab of the needle. He’d focused on the flames until they burned his eyes, biting his lip.

“Do not shame me by crying out,” Cunoval had warned.

Staring into Marcus’s eyes, Esca felt the space between them folding in, until he was a boy again, first blooded in battle, and Marcus with him, a child of the Brigantes, inking the history of the tribe into his skin. He grunted and squirmed in Esca’s grip, biting his lip until it bled, but didn’t cry. Grudgingly, Esca ‘s hate thawed to respect.

III.

Had Marcus lived amongst his people, they would have slept on the floor together in a pile of furs with the other unwed men. Esca might have reached for him in the night. He remembered his first, fumbling explorations with Conal, gasping into each other’s mouths, trying not to cry out.

Instead, Esca sleeps before Marcus’s door. Sometimes he hears Marcus pleasuring himself beneath the covers, and his cock swells. He grips himself furtively, a series of short, rough strokes. Sometimes Marcus hears, he thinks. But Marcus never orders him into his bed, and Esca cannot bring himself to offer.


	4. Honor

Esca stares at his reflection in the water. Is this Cunoval’s son, in a threadbare tunic with bare legs and closely-shorn hair, like a Roman's? He lifts a hand to his collarbone, where he used to wear a torc. Only the tattoo on his arm remains.. 

Marcus leans his crutch against the wall and steps forward, trusting Esca to catch him if he falls. 

Esca scowls at the ink on his arm. He is no longer a warrior of the Brigantes. He is only a Roman slave, tied to a lame master by chains beyond the skill of any blacksmith.


End file.
